‘All Hail, The Queen Of New York’ Poem by 13 year old Bookosmian from Dahod, Gujarat
When I entered the city of New York,
I saw a group of ladies performing folk art,
They welcomed me to their land,
They all wanted to shake my hand.
They called me ‘The great girl’,
They gifted me tonnes of pearls.
I was feeling like I was in the seventh heaven,
I ruled on the land as a queen,
in front of me, all the great people did lean.
They did not reject or refuse my laws
The royal eagle cut its pointed claws
Just to sit on my arm,
And watch the growing farm.
My paintings were drawn
On the walls of the building so tall.
When I went out to play
They all would spread their hands to make way.
I felt so proud,
Like a celebrity surrounded by a crowd.
